


Due South to True North

by Bliss_Smith



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 05:38:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14513709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bliss_Smith/pseuds/Bliss_Smith
Summary: On the road to Ostagar





	Due South to True North

**Author's Note:**

> Another few hundred words so I can go on to something else. Possibly awkward and clumsy, I'm sure I'll find a way to retool some of this once I've hit post.

It was the memory of his back that started it.

He felt so good under her hand, his back most of all, as she ran her palm over his skin she could feel his back ripple, the muscles working smoothly and she wanted to know what it was going to feel like later on, when her hands were pressing on his skin, pulling him down harder, when her nails were digging in, drawing blood and cries of pleasure. When he finally laid her down on her bed she kept her hands firmly pressed against him, wanting the soft heat of his back as much as the soft heat of his mouth and his knee between her thighs.

But Sugar started barking and she found herself watching that smoothly muscled back move towards the door, thinking, _go away, whoever you are, I want him back in my bed_ , but before that could happen he opened the door and suddenly his back didn’t look right, supple smooth became distorted, a heavy, ominous bulge breaking the perfection before breaking the skin. She wanted to scream but there was no time, and as she bit back that same scream three days later a thought came floating along, like a feather lazily dropping down to land on her: _he died to buy you time to grab your sword_.

His purpose there hadn’t been to bed her, she might have thought so but she wasn’t in charge, was she? _He was only there so you would be awake and have time to grab your sword._

She pulled the reins, yanking hard enough to make the horse squeal a little. She didn’t wait for him to stop all the way before she was sliding off the side, trying to get to the ground before she started throwing up.

She screamed her rage at the dirt as her stomach clenched and settled. She wanted to throw up, needed to, if for no other reason than it would stop her thoughts in their tracks. Sugar came back to her side, growling and whining low in his deep chest. She sat up enough to wrap her arms around his thick neck and started sobbing.

_Ser Gilmore was the first boy brave enough to kiss you and he was left to die so you would have time to get to your father._

She wanted to scream more but she couldn’t catch her breath, the air in her lungs and throat was covered with barbs that caught and dragged as she tried to find a way to live with such awful knowledge.

_They were placed in careful position to buy you time to get out_. _Even your parents. Especially them._

“I didn’t ask for this.” she breathed against Sugar’s softly spiky fur, finally letting the words go.

“No one ever does.” Duncan said. His voice was smooth and quiet and implacable, sending a shiver down her back.

She bit back another sob and stood up, trying to find some reason to get back up on her borrowed horse and keep going. The numbness was finally going away, leaving her stranded with the new facts of her life. All she wanted was to go home but she no longer had one to go to.

_Find a new one_

In some other lifetime she might have had the luxury of a safe place to curl up and lick her wounds, give them time and fresh air to heal. In this one she wasn’t going to have any more time, wasn’t going to have anywhere safe or clean. She was running from death and destruction, headfirst into more of the same. The was nothing left to go back to and nothing safe or welcoming to look forward to.

She couldn’t help the thought, could she draw her sword and run herself through before Duncan could reach her?

_You’d do that? Piss on all those people who died for you by giving up now?_

She knew she was only talking to herself and that only made her angrier.

_Don’t you dare start throwing dead bodies, I’m not the one who put them there._

_No you weren’t, but that doesn’t change the simple fact that they were put there because you making it out alive was more important than anything else. Don’t you at least want to know why?_

“But I’m so lost,” she whispered, needing to say it out loud. Make it real. She was totally lost in a world that no longer played by the same rules, left stranded with only her dog, her sword and shield, a small pouch of gold, and her own strength. Which, even in her misery she knew she was lucky having even one of those things. People were often left with far less.

_If you’re lost do what you were always taught. Hold your compass and look for true north._

_~*~_

He didn't talk much but she didn’t mind the quiet. She knew he wasn’t the type to sit down and talk her through her grief but he led her out of it just the same. Or maybe, simply walked behind her with the unspoken promise to catch her if she tripped.

When she asked him to teach her how to hunt with a bow he did, even though she knew it slowed them down. When she asked for lessons on how to skin the game she managed to catch he didn’t ask why such a sweet young lass like herself would want to do something so messy. Nor did he mention her tears as she did it. He knew she was horrified by what she was doing to such a cute little bunny and she took his silence as calm reinforcement that she had every right to be.

She almost gave up more than once, the sheer grossness of what she was doing pushed her in a way she wouldn’t have known to expect. Such a sweet little bunny and she blasted it with an arrow, a poor shot that made it hurt before it died and now she was eviscerating it, blood everywhere and tears pouring down her face. It was too much but she knew she had to do it and wouldn’t let herself off the hook.

She had to learn how to kill and dress game because she was the only one she could count on to save her now. Duncan was doing an admirable job of guardianship but what if something happened to him? She had to know how to do these things on her own if she wanted to live.

And she did.

_I’m sorry little bunny but I want to live and I need you for that._

The thought was no sooner finished than she understood what had her so upset, why she was carrying around more guilt than was warranted for events she did not place in motion.

_You would have killed them all yourself if it had come down to it._

She froze up, kneeling on the ground with her hands in a rabbit’s carcass, the blood drying to a sticky pull on her arms as she tried to find a way to deny that.

No matter how much she wanted to do that she couldn’t, not without lying to herself. Which, didn’t lying seem like such a better option than admitting you’re selfish enough to be glad they’re dead and not you?

Had someone told her what was going to happen, that the only way she would survive it was use Dairren as a human shield, she would have gone along willingly. Probably crying like now, with her hands in a dead rabbit, but doing it anyway, because fuck everyone else, everything else, she was going to live.

She dragged her eyes away from the gore, trying to find something to look at, anything to break her out of the sudden paralysis she found herself trapped in.

Duncan was watching her. Studying her, his dark brown eyes boring right in, noting every movement of her expressive face. She didn’t know if he was actually reading her mind or just the outside of her but it didn’t matter. She knew he knew what was going on in her head, and when he lifted his chin and gave a small, satisfied nod she knew he was proud. Of her, for being strong enough to face such a truth about herself, and of himself, for leading the right one from the castle.


End file.
